


I'd Rather Be a Rebel Than a Slave

by KilannaD



Series: What is it to be a Hero? [5]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Jessica Jones Season 1 Re-write, MJ and Ned do their own thing here, Multiple Pov, Universe Alteration - Alternate Timeline, Universe Alteration - Peter is Matt's child, things go a little better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilannaD/pseuds/KilannaD
Summary: Peter is doing homework when he realizes he’s an idiot. Thus far, outside of the Avengers and Matt, Peter hasn’t really considered other powered people. He hasn’t run into any. But then Trish Talk mentions something that catches his ear, and suddenly he feels stupid.“…what’s happened to Hope has happened before.” Trish is saying. It takes the rest of the conversation between Trish and a lawyer (?) for Peter to catch up to what they’re saying.Someone with mind control powers is in the city.Well, fuck.__Or; Kilgrave is in New York and Beelzebub wants to help.
Relationships: Jessica Jones & Patricia Walker, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Jessica Jones
Series: What is it to be a Hero? [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2014840
Comments: 10
Kudos: 178





	I'd Rather Be a Rebel Than a Slave

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title from Rebel by Victoria Carbol  
> You guys are giving me so much love. I want to return the love to the anon on Tumblr that sent me (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ❤️ when I said I needed love to edit and post. It's currently five in the morning and I've been up for an hour getting this shit together just for you.  
> Speaking of Tumblr, those of you who pay attention to me will know that I went and changed the timeline from the MCU so go look at that if you're interested. I also have a few missing scenes in the works that I'll probably only post on Tumblr because they don't really fit the flow well. Look out for those.  
> Oh, and let me know what you think about where I'm going with MJ and Ned :)

Peter hears about Sokovia rising while he’s in school. Flash, always on his phone, stands up in the middle of the teacher talking, but considering the topic, Ms. Henricks allows it. Peter helps Flash jury-rig his computer to the projector and they all watch in horrified, hollow, silence, as the human race is threatened with extinction for the second time in three years. No one pays attention to the bell, no one speaks a word. No one can be bothered to find a way to _move_.

~~Not like it would help.~~

And then the Avengers—though there are a few more than usual—save the day, a huge helicopter/fortress looking thing pulling out as many civilians as it can. Peter can’t breathe, relief making his entire body go tense and loose, tighten and release. Of course the Avengers saved the day again

~~What if they hadn’t?~~

~~What if they’d all died?~~

they always do.

They’re given a week off school.

* * *

Matt’s outside waiting for him, and for once he doesn’t pretend not to know where Peter is. Just pulls him tight against him, holds him close under Matt’s chin. Peter returns the hug, breathing in his dad and letting him really believe he’s safe for the first time since he’d seen the news.

“I love you, son.”

~~They might not have ever seen each other again.~~

“Love you too, dad.”

Matt doesn’t let Peter out of arms reach for the rest of the week.

* * *

Criminal activity picks up almost immediately. With the city sending as much relief aid to Sokovia as possible, people think it’ll be easier to get away with shit. The same thing happened after the Incident, but this time, Beelzebub and Daredevil are ready for it. As much as Matt wants them to stay together, wants to keep an eye out for his son, Midtown and Queens need help as well. Though Midtown especially. While the Genovese and Gambino families are no longer gearing up for war, they aren’t on the best of terms and the other mafias are circling like sharks.

The Avengers announce they’ve added four new members to the roster—Scarlett Witch, Quicksilver, Falcon, and The Vision, as well as War Machine being officially announced as the military liaison for the sake of appearing as an official and contracted private military force. Matt thinks they’re trying to cover their asses after it’s leaked that Iron Man is responsible for the creation of Ultron, but Iron Man has also been seen in Sokovia, going through ruble and donating huge amounts to relief. He fucked up, Peter knows that, but he’s clearly trying to fix it, no matter what the motivation. And then the Avengers announce they’re planning on moving to a facility upstate and Midtown is, again, thrown into criminal chaos as everyone seems to figure they can get away with shit if the big guys are taking off.

Not that the Avengers ever did anything to help street crimes, but the threat, built into the city skyline and emblazoned with an A as it was, had helped a little.

* * *

Peter is doing homework when he realizes he’s an idiot. Thus far, outside of the Avengers and Matt, Peter hasn’t really considered other powered people. He hasn’t run into any and Turk hadn’t mentioned anything when Beelzebub payed him a visit two nights ago. But then Trish Talk mentions something that catches his ear, and suddenly he feels stupid.

(Peter’s taken to listening to Trish Talk while he does homework. It leaves Matt visibly on edge that Peter’s going to do something stupid like call in again, which is kind of hilarious. Sadly, since the Gambino story, Trish Talk has reverted to doing nothing but fluff pieces, which is bizarre. Peter knows for a fact that several of his classmates listened to the Gambino story, but dropped Trish Talk when she didn’t keep talking about real news.)

 _“…what’s happened to Hope has happened before.”_ Trish is saying. It takes the rest of the conversation between Trish and a lawyer (?) for Peter to catch up to what they’re saying.

Someone with _mind control_ powers is in the city. And then Trish’s mic cuts out for three long minutes of abrupt ads and Peter realizes that insulting a powered sociopath on a live broadcast? Probably not the best idea.

And then a smooth, educated, British accent is taunting Trish and Peter has no doubt that this ‘Kilgrave’ is real.

Well, fuck.

* * *

It takes a few hours and Ned, but eventually Peter has all the information released to the public (and some not).

Hope Shlottman went missing and her parents hired Hell’s Kitchen PI Jessica Jones. Jessica found her (somehow, she keeps nothing online that Ned can hack into) and then Hope shot both her parents in Jessica’s elevator. Jeri Hogarth (who Ned _can_ hack into) took the case and planned defense is that Hope suffered a mental break and _not_ that she was mind controlled like Hope is claiming. From everything they can find, it seems this ‘Kilgrave’ uses voice commands to activate his powers. Which means Peter has to go ahead and develop super earplugs to turn him affectively deaf.

The problem, obviously, is that not only do these _not_ work completely on Matt’s superior hearing, but even if they did, Matt can’t fight deaf. Not affectively, at least. Which is probably what leads to their current state of affairs; namely, yelling.

“You are _not_ going after a _mind controlling sociopath_ without me! Or, you know what, no, you’re not going against this Kilgrave ever, period. End of discussion.”

“Matt, I can’t just let a guy like this-”

“Not your problem. I thought you wanted to help me with the bank robberies? Let’s focus on that, instead.”

“Matt, this guy is going after people. There’re posters up all over the Kitchen. You really want to let some normal PI and a _talk show host_ deal with something like this?”

“It’s too dangerous, Peter. What happens if one of your earplugs falls out? What happens if he gets you under his control and _I can’t tell?_ ”

“Then we develop a safe word. And like, regular questioning of what I’ve been up to. You know when I lie, it’ll be okay.”

“God damnit, Peter, I don’t want you in danger like that!”

“I’m always in danger, Matt! I got a stab wound to my knee last week and without super healing, I probably wouldn’t have ever walked again. That hasn’t stopped you, and it sure as hell won’t stop me!”

Neither of them speak for a while, and Peter watches Matt’s jaw as it ticks, sees his fists tighten and release. Finally, quiet as defeat, Matt murmurs;

“Mandate number two.” It’s a last ditch effort, one last attempt at getting Peter to back down. They both know it won’t work, but Peter plays along anyway.

“Mandate number two states that the parental unit must be aware of activities, not approve of them.”

Matt hisses, hackles rising and looking far too much like a cat that got its tail stepped on.

“I never should have let you intern with us, Foggy is teaching you terrible things.” Peter manages to crack a smile but Matt is shaking his head and putting up a finger in his face before he can make a comment. “If I don’t hear from you every three hours, I go after you. If you don’t use the safe word, you get locked in your room. I assume there’s a time limit on the brain washing.” He _hopes_ there’s a time limit, they both know.

“Okay. What safe word?”

Matt shrugs. “Something you don’t say often, but that won’t be remarked upon if you meet up with me in public as civilians.”

Peter rolls options over in his head, but there are a limited number of things that fit that criteria. And the one that comes to mind is…well, there’s a lot of potential baggage there.

“What about ‘dad’?” Matt goes still for half a beat and Peter is already backtracking, realizing that they really should maintain the muteness on the topic. “I mean, not that it has to be, because obviously I’ve called you—not that I want to, like, address you as something that makes you uncomfortable! Because obviously we’ve only really known each other for nearly three months and most parent-child relationships are built over years—though I don’t blame you! For not being there, when I was a kid. I mean, I’m still a kid, technically, but obviously you not knowing about me absolves you of not-”

“Peter, stop talking.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Neither of them say anything, so Peter busies himself by playing with his shirt sleeve. Matt had insisted on getting him new clothes when he moved in, but he stuck with loose, soft fabrics that would help hide injuries. Now, it’s easy to twist the gray between his fingers, cast in wild colours by the billboard. They still haven’t gotten around to putting up curtains.

“You-” Matt cuts himself off, dragging his hands through his hair and then down his face. He takes a few measured breaths and walks over to slump in the couch. After a moment, Peter joins him. “It’s not that I have a-a _problem_ with you calling me dad, kiddo. I just-” Matt releases a frustrated sigh, turning to face Peter and grab his hands. “I wasn’t there for you as a baby and now, I’m letting you go out and fight crime despite you being underage. I’m not only complacent, I’m _encouraging_. Pete, sweetheart, I am a _terrible_ father, and I’m under no impression otherwise.”

“But you’re _not_.”

“Pet-”

“No, listen.” Matt stays quiet, lips pressed thin, so Peter barrels on, heart warm and lungs tight. “I-I get that we don’t have a conventional relationship, and maybe vigilantism isn’t the best father-son bonding activity out there but our lives aren’t normal, Matt. Both of us have powers and a maybe unhealthy desire for justice, but that’s who we are. And you—gods, Matt you’ve been there for me, every time I needed help, every time I got hurt, every time I needed to rant about stupid school bullshit or learn how to throw a punch properly. I just… I think you’re the best dad out there.

“But Uncle Ben—when I was really little, a year or two after Mary and Richard left, he used to correct me when I called him dad or May mom by accident. I was too young to understand that these people who took care of me weren’t my real parents after Mary and Richard disappeared. And even though I knew they were my aunt and uncle, sometimes it just slipped out because that’s what they _were_ , when shit was a little too real and I needed a parent. I just…” Peter trails off, waving his hands a little when words escaped him. Matt breathed out slowly, pulling Peter against him in a hard hug.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to call me anything, Peter. But I don’t mind, when you do call me dad. Just—use what you feel is right, whenever. I won’t mind. And we can use it for our safe word, with this whole mind control thing.”

“Okay.” Peter buries his face in Matt shoulder. He’s too old for it and considering he’s a masked vigilante, it’s incongruous. But for this half second, painted in colours by an eye searing billboard and curled up on the couch, he lets himself have it. “Love you, dad.”

Matt breathes in his hair, kissing his head. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

* * *

Beelzebub starts looking for signs of either Kilgrave, Jessica Jones, or Trish Walker that evening. He gets distracted by some light arson, and doesn’t find anything, but he keeps looking the next day. The first sentence Peter says to Matt, at any given meet up, always has dad in it. It becomes their new normal.

Peter’s at school the next day, considering ways to hunt down a man that no one’s seen, when Ned slides a few pieces of paper across the lunch table, stapled together like they were a school report.

Ned doesn’t say anything, which is weird, and MJ leans against Peter’s shoulder to get a good look. The papers are files on Jessica Jones, Patricia Walker, and police reports filed about Kilgrave in the last ten years.

“Holyshit, _Ned_.” Trish and Jessica’s addresses are included, and the police reports involve a dozen different people who went to the cops saying they were mind controlled. Each file is marked _closed_ with a note saying the victim was entered into a psychiatric ward.

“Nice going,” MJ throws in, tracing her finger over one of the police reports. “Wonder if the lawyer knows that other people tried being honest about this dude and were totally dismissed.”

“I doubt she dug this deep.” Peter scans the addresses, memorizing them.

“I couldn’t find anything about his real identity,” Ned finally says, hunching into himself a little. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter assures, reaching out for their handshake. Ned sits up and grins, meeting him in kind while MJ rolls her eyes. “This is great, Ned. How’d you get it all?”

“Oh, uh.” Ned clears his throat, shifting in his seat. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, before shrugging and murmuring, “You know, the usual ways one gets that stuff.”

MJ slowly puts down the papers, eyes narrowed. “You are a terrible liar Edward Leeds.”

Ned flinches, skin getting a little darker.

“Ned?” Peter asks, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “What’s up, man? You know we don’t care about the legality of it, ‘specially considering-” Peter waves his hand in his own general direction- “you know, me.”

Ned throws a quick look around the room, but no one ever sits near them during lunch, so he leans forward and ducks his head. “Look, I want to tell you, _I do_ , but this is—it’s _big_ , like, potentially federal prison big. And I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m going to stick with it so just… Can we ignore it, please? At least until I figure out what I’m doing.”

MJ purses her lips but nods slowly, going back to the papers. Peter wants to listen to Ned, he does, but he has to know-

“Ned, are you in danger?”

“No, not really.” They meet each other’s eyes and for half a second, Ned softens, smiling a little with his eyes crinkling. “I’ll tell you if that changes, Peter, promise.”

“Okay.” Peter nods, leaning back. “Okay.”

“Ned,” MJ murmurs, still tracing one of the police reports. “Can you get me copies of all these police reports? On a USB key, untraceable?”

“Uh, yeah. But why?”

MJ hums distantly and Peter can’t help groaning.

“Why are you being sneaky? Why are my best friends both being sneaky? I do not appreciate the new found sneaky sneakiness happening.”

“You started it when you decided to cosplay,” MJ throws out and Peter squawks, dramatically swaying back as if shot. Ned laughs, loud, and then goes into talking about Legos.

Peter tries not to consider what MJ and Ned are doing when, later that day, Ned slides a USB key to MJ under the desks.

* * *

After school, Peter puts on the suit and heads to the address Ned gave him for Patricia Walkers. It’s been two days since the podcast, and he worries that Kilgrave doesn’t have much patience for someone who calls him out publicly.

He’s right.

He hears the scream a block up, even though it’s probably not that loud to anyone without super hearing. He swings high, using the momentum from falling to crash through the balcony and directly into the fight. Someone—a _cop_ —has Trish pinned to the ground, hands on her throat.

Beelzebub webs the cop, swinging him into the wall. He drags Trish up, taking only a moment to make sure she’s okay before turning. He catches sight of a nametag—Simpson—as he ducks around a punch. Beelzebub leans into Simpson’s space, using his smaller frame to slip close and elbow him in the throat. Simpson goes back, before sweeping low and tackling Beelzebub to the ground.

There’s a moment of disorientation, air gone, body above him, before there’s another crash, a shout, and a fourth body—woman, dark hair, probably Jessica Jones, the files said they were adopted sisters—pulls Simpson up, throwing him against the wall with a simple flick of the wrist.

Okay. Maybe she _isn’t_ a normal PI.

“Oh, wow, I haven’t met anyone else with superstrength. How much can you bench?” Jessica glares at him, opening her mouth. She closes it with a snap when Beelzebub tilts around her and webs Simpson to the wall before he can get to his feet. He starts shouting immediately, reaching towards where Trish has parked herself on the opposite side of the room, rubbing her hands against her throat.

“You okay?” Jessica asks, and Trish nods before turning to Beelzebub.

“You’re Beelzebub. You listen to my show.”

“ _Yeeep._ Nice ta meech’ ya. Sorry ‘had to happen after you insulted a sociopath with mind control powers on live radio. Gotta say though, glad to see you’re reporting the real stuff again.”

“She won’t be talking about Kilgrave again,” Jessica snaps. “And what the hell are you doing here?”

“Wanted to help with Kilgrave,” Beelzebub offers. “Figured he’d come after Ms. Walker.” He tilts his head to the white mass wiggling on the wall. “See I was right.”

“Get lost,” Jessica barks, slamming Simpson’s head against the wall and knocking him out. “You’ll do nothing but get in my way.”

“Jess-”

“No Trish. You called him out, and look what happened.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Trish says, but she’s still rubbing her neck.

“Hot pad.” They both turn to him at the random topic. He gestures to Trish. “The neck. If you can stand having something on it, use a hot pad. Helps with the swelling and it’ll trick your brain into thinking it’s safe to have something warm around it before it decides to give you flashbacks every time someone touches your neck.”

Trish hesitates, before nodding. “Thank you. And thank you for saving me.”

“Eh, it’s what I do. But if you want to help me out, can ya give me everything you have on Kilgrave?”

“I told you,” Jessica butts in, “To stay out of it. I can handle it myself.”

“The same way you were handling it when Ms. Walker was getting strangled?” Jessica goes still and Trish makes a choked noise.

“That’s not f-”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Beelzebub assures. “Well, not _super_ rude. But it seems to me that you need help and I’m offering. And I got earplugs, so unless you tell me that this dude’s using something other than hearing…” They don’t say anything but Jessica scowls, which Beelzebub assumes is compliance. “Yeah, so I can help out.”

“And will Demon Daddy be joining?” Jessica asks, derision dripping. Beelzebub snorts and makes a note to bring it up with Daredevil later.

“Nah, Double-D is staying away from this nonsense. He’s got bank robbers to hunt down, anyway.”

Jessica snorts, but Trish is glaring at her. They do the siblings thing where they have an argument with nothing but their eyebrows. Foggy and Matt, despite the latter being blind, occasionally do the same thing. Jessica must lose, because she throws up her hands and reaches into a pocket for a flask, which she chugs.

“You,” she snarls, pointing at him, “will do _nothing_ I do not okay, and if I tell you to fuck off, you fuck off.”

“You know, Daredevil has almost the exact same rules. ‘Cept he’s more polite about telling me to fuck off.”

“ _Deal_?” she pushes.

“Yeah, yeah, deal. So, what should we do about the peon?” He jabs his thumb toward the wall and almost on cue Simpson twitches, but doesn’t wake up.

“He’ll still be under Kilgrave’s control for a while longer,” Jessica offers, staring at him hard. “If his orders are to kill Trish at any cost, he’ll keep trying until she’s dead or the control ends.”

“So, wait, can Kilgrave’s powers make people, like, alter reality? Like if he commanded you to open a portal to hell, would you do it?”

“You’d try until he told you to stop or you convinced yourself you’d done it.” Jessica scowls and goes for her flask again, frowning when she finds it empty.

“So what happens if we convince Robo Cop that Trish is dead?”

Jessica and Trish blink at each other, before Jessica nods slowly. “Could work. What you thinking?”

“Well, if you’re standing over her and she pretends to be dead while you fake being on 911 with a dead body, I figure he’ll conclude his orders are complete. When he leaves, I can tail him to see what’s up.”

“You have those earplugs, right?” Trish asks.

“Yep, specifically designed to make me deaf. Here.” He tosses his burner to Jessica. “Put your number in and I’ll call you when I have him knocked out.” After she’s done so, she tosses both the phone and a syringe back at him.

“Kilgrave’s powers don’t work while he’s under anesthetic. Jab him with that before you take out your earplugs. And _don’t_ ,” she stresses, jabbing a finger at him, “take them out a single moment before.”

Beelzebub solutes and climbs down the building, waiting in an alley with eyes on the door. It doesn’t take long for the cop to come out, confidently turning left and heading towards Chelsea.

Beelzebub follows.

* * *

Chelsea wasn’t hit as hard as Hell’s Kitchen during the Incident and it shows in the glass giants and sharp lines. Simpson leads Beelzebub to a penthouse suit. After checking his earplugs, he goes in through the balcony, nearly slapping directly into Simpson. He webs the cop, turning and finding a tall man with dark colouring and wearing a purple button up standing abruptly from the couch. His lips move, but Beelzebub doesn’t hear, aims his wrists. Kilgrave dodges the webs, face twisting into an ugly snarl, lips still moving. Beelzebub doesn’t realize the orders aren’t for him until his danger sense _screams_ , and he moves to the side a single second before a knife swishes through the air where he was.

Simpson has one foot still stuck, but manages to take wild swings at Beelzebub. It only takes a second for him to knock Simpson out, webbing him down, but its enough. By the time Beelzebub turns back around, Kilgrave is gone.

Cursing, Beelzebub races through the apartment, ducking as instinct demanded only a second before a wild, uncoordinated punch goes over his head.

“Wow, I really hope I wasn’t _that_ pathetic before Double-D got a hold of me.”

Beelzebub can’t tell if there’s a response, just another wild swing. Beelzebub gets interrupted by three separate people, and while none of them are trained and it’s easy to knock them all out, they slow him down enough that he can’t find Kilgrave.

“Fucking, gods damned, piece of _shit_.” Beelzebub keeps grumbling to himself as he searches the apartment, though he doesn’t expect much. He really should learn to cuss in some other languages though. He likes learning Spanish, and knowing several languages would give him a wider range of choices when shit goes wrong.

Like now. Right now would be a great time to have a dozen languages to choose from because somewhere out there, there has to be words for the creepy, uneasy feeling that takes him over, staring at a room full of photos. Bile rises in his throat, gut twisting at someone taking a beautiful art medium and turning it into _this_. He seriously doubts Jessica consented to any of them.

She picks up on the first ring, when he calls.

“ _You get him?_ ”

“No, he got away.”

“ _Fuck. I thought you were good at this bullshit?_ ”

“Look, bitch to me later, girl. But you need to come over here, like, yesterday. Kilgrave has a fucking _alter_ to you.”

There’s a beat of quiet, before, “ _What’s the address?_ ”

* * *

Jessica assumes someone is stalking her on Kilgrave’s orders. Not a hard conclusion, Beelzebub admits. Convincing her to let _him_ tail her to find whoever is doing the stalking is a little harder. Trish pulls her aside though, murmuring quietly, and when they come back Jessica relents, but only if ‘Spider Demon’ swears not to engage again. He agrees and gets a time tomorrow morning to be outside Jessica’s apartment.

He is really, really glad they have a long weekend at school.

* * *

Jeri Hogarth is on her lunch break, going through emails when she finds something unusual.

She’s already opened it and only when the message computes does she look higher and realize she doesn’t know the sender. She almost deletes it on principle, knowing better than to trust unknown attachments. But, well.

Hope Shlottman is a hopeless case. One Jeri shouldn’t have taken, especially considering Jessica hasn’t even delivered on her end of the bargain. She reads the email again.

_**Black Clematis** <blackclematis@gmail.com>_

_To Jeri Hogarth_

_In reference to Hope Shlottman_

_I heard you needed help with the Hope Shlottman case. Consider this a favor._

_Attachment: ‘Kilgrave’ Police Reports_

She opened the attachment. Though she would never say it out loud, Jeri could admit to herself that this is exactly what she needs for the case. However this Black Clematis found it, didn’t matter. Though clearly they were skilled enough, if even Jessica hadn’t dug these reports up.

“Jeri,” Pam says, popping her head in, “I brought you a coffee.”

“Thank you Pam.” Pam smiles, beautiful in the streaming light and in her crisp skirt suit. After she exits, Jeri turns back to her email.

_**Jeri Hogarth** <jerihogarth@gmail.com>_

_To Black Clematis_

_Favors_

_If you want me to owe you, there’s something else I want._

It take the whole day, but eventually, she gets a response.

**_Black Clematis_ ** _ <blackclematis@gmail.com> _

_To Jeri Hogarth_

_Re: Favors_

_How much do you want to owe me?_

**_Jeri Hogarth_ ** _ <jerihogarth@gmail.com> _

_To Black Clematis_

_Re: Favors_

_Find me something to blackmail Wendy Ross into signing divorce papers with. Then we’ll talk._

* * *

Hyper aware, super senses tensed, it’s almost too easy to spot Jessica’s stalker. He wears a scarf, hunches into himself, but the camera he carries is all too obvious. Beelzebub trails him, keeping distant, but eventually, he has to get close enough to get a better look at Kilgrave, pulling out his phone to try and record what he can. Should’ve asked Belphegor for more bugs, but he’d make it work.

* * *

“What’d you get?” Jess asks, scanning through the photos from Kilgrave’s apartment, trying to find a pattern, a repeat angle, _something_ , that’d be useful.

“ _Nothing,_ ” the demon guy says—Prince of Hell, or Beelzy or whatever name he’s going by—“ _Couldn’t figure out who was trailing you. No one suspicious. Why don’t we meet up tomorrow, figure out our next move._ ”

“Look, dude, if you can’t-”

“ _I can help. Really. We just need a new plan of attack, is all._ ”

Jess throws her head back, wishing for something to save her from do-gooder idiots.

~~She is a do-gooder idiot, but no one ever said she couldn’t lie to herself.~~

“Fine.” She rattles off an address and time, fully intending to tell the guy to fuck off to his face. He’s gotta be a college kid looking for some adrenaline and fighting Kilgrave is no place for an idiot like that.

~~Smile.~~

~~Deal with her.~~

_~~Jessica~~ _ ~~.~~

Jess finishes her bottle and reaches for the next.

* * *

Matt comes home later than usual, shoulders aching from being hunched over his desk all day. Maybe he should consider back support. God, is he getting old. Peter will never let him hear the end of it.

Speaking of who, Peter is suited up, heading towards the roof access. “Hey Matt.” Nothing follows, and Peter is still heading out.

“Hey, Peter.” Matt reaches out, snags Peter’s wrist. His heartbeat speeds up and he tugs a little.

“Got to head out, I’ll be back later.” There’s no lie but Matt’s panic is growing, chest tightening. He focuses all his attention on his son, trying to read him. There are no injuries, but there is an unusual cologne. Subtle and expensive, the kind neither of them ever interact with, layers of other smells he doesn’t focus on.

“Where you going?” Matt forces his voice even, but tightens his hold. Peter squirms but doesn’t break free yet.

“Out on patrol.” _Lie_. Matt’s breath catches, almost disbelieving. Peter hasn’t lied to him since they found out about being vigilantes.

“Why don’t you stay in with me tonight? We can watch The Princess Bride.”

“Can’t, Matt. I got to go.”

“What’s so important?”

“N-nothing.” Another lie. “I just—I have to _go_.” Peter breaks free and Matt catches his shoulder, the hold easy after so many years.

_~~“Break the hold, Matty.”~~ _

But Matt’s shown Peter the move before

_~~“Carry your weight through, go with the movement, not against. That’s it, Pete.”~~ _ ~~~~

~~Matt isn’t Stick.~~

and he breaks free, racing for the roof access. Matt catches him in a choke hold, pulling him back to the bottom floor. Peter doesn’t hesitate to use his full strength, flipping Matt over his shoulder. Matt doesn’t have air but that’s nothing new. He catches Peter’s foot, letting momentum carry him to the ground. It’s almost too easy to pin him down, arms behind his back and thighs pressed still under Matt.

~~He’s _better_ than Stick.~~

~~He _is_.~~

“Peter, calm down.”

“No! No, I have to go, let me go!” Without anything to leverage with, Peter’s strength can’t do anything. Matt tries to get him to calm down, but there’s nothing that keeps him quiet, screaming as he is, desperate to leave. His heart is a drumbeat and Matt is leaving bruises with how tight he has to hold on.

“Pete-”

“Let me go!”

“Son, _please_.” Peter doesn’t stop fighting and for one heart stopping moment Matt’s grip slips, Peter’s arm flipping them. Matt gets control again, putting Peter on his back and crossing his arms across his chest. He’s still yelling, saltwater making the air thick and Matt can’t tell which of them is crying.

~~He would never hurt his son.~~

~~Matt isn’t Stick.~~

Matt grabs Peter’s hair, forcing his skull against the floor once, twice. Peter goes still and quiet.

~~Like father like son.~~

* * *

Jess phone says the call is from ‘😈’ and she almost throws it out the window. She’s brain deep trying to hunt down Kilgrave and she doesn’t appreciate the distraction. Still, the dude might have something for her.

And he does. But it’s not who she expected.

“ _How long do Kilgrave’s powers last?_ ”

She freezes trying to place the voice. It’s older and gravely, fake in the opposite direction she usually goes but fake all the same. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s calling or why.

“Spider Demon hurt?”

“ _Answer the question._ ” Wow, is he pissed. Voice sharp and accusing, tight and overly controlled.

“Twelve hours.” She does the math, figures the call she’d gotten from him earlier must have been ordered by Kilgrave which— _fuck_ —means the dude had found Kilgrave but something must have happened that put him under Kilgrave’s control.

Jess doesn’t pray, but she sure as fuck hopes the vigilante didn’t do anything too bad. Not that it would help the guilt.

“I’m guessing he’s at about the six hour mark. Just let him sleep it off. Keep whatever family he has away, they don’t need to see that shit.”

“ _I’m his family_ ,” Daredevil snarls and Jess’s breath catches. There’s obvious pain and guilt in his voice, that awkward mix Trish always has but coated with fury. She hears him take a deep breath and she fully expects him to say to stay away. She wouldn’t blame him, is planning on doing just that. “ _Do you have a lead on Kilgrave_?” he asks instead and she eyes the empty bottles around her, wondering if she’s crossed into hallucination territory.

“Look, I didn’t want the spider involved before and this just proves me right. Why don’t you and yours stay away while I deal with Kilgrave?”

“ _This is our city_ ,” he murmurs quietly after a few seconds of silence. “ _These are our people he’s hurting. Even if I wanted to stop BZ from helping you, he’d do it anyway._ ”

Jess snorts at the presumptive possessiveness

~~“ _You could help so many people, Jess.”_~~

and puts as much caustic venom in her voice as she can. “I don’t know what guilt ridden tragic backstory you’re sporting, but you can’t just _claim_ an entire city as yours to protect. This is my problem and I’m dealing with it.”

“ _Clearly_ ,” he drawls, and damn if he doesn’t sound amused. “ _Tell you what, I’ll let you deal with your ‘guilt ridden tragic backstory’ but if you need help, call this number. BZ and I are willing to help._ ”

“Spider said you were staying away from Kilgrave,” she taunts, ignoring the burn about the tragic backstory. He isn’t exactly wrong.

“ _You have your powers, I have my own. Mine just…put me more at risk, against Kilgrave. Still ways I can help, if you need it._ ”

“Oh yeah? And how is that?”

“ _Kilgrave’s been going to a café on 10 th and 45th. Daily, if that atrocious cologne of his can’t cover stale coffee and fresh pastries._” That…is extremely helpful. And creepily specific.

“Wait, did you run into him?”

“ _No. The scent was on Beel._ ”

“Strong enough that you developed an opinion of his cologne?”

“ _It’s peppermint and_ cinnamon _, and I’ll bet anything it’s overpriced,_ ” Daredevil sneers. “ _It’s offensive on literally every level._ ”

Jess barks a startled laugh because yeah, she always thought Kilgrave’s cologne of choice was terrible

_~~“You love my cologne. Say it.”~~ _

_~~“I love your cologne.”~~ _ ~~~~

and it’s nice to know that’s real and not just another kind of PTSD. Not like Chinese food.

_~~“You love Chinese food.”~~ _

“You and the spider must really hate those things if the scent was so out of character.”

“ _Lately he’s been avoiding stuff like that. Cinnamon, peppermint, lemons. We stopped a hostage situation at a new age magic shop and he bitched about the eucalyptus for three days.”_

“Wait, aren’t all those things spider repellent?”

“ _Yeah. Not as weird as him reading on the ceiling, though. We have a list of weird spider behaviors, like a bingo card. I’m waiting for him to start purring. He’s hoping for venom._ ”

“That is absolutely terrifying.” He chuckles at her probably clear disgusted interest. Before she can say anything else, he curses, a shout coming over the line.

“ _Shit, he’s awake. I got to go._ ” Like water dousing her, she comes back to herself in her crappy apartment, bottles around her, a mind-controlling rapist sociopath hunting her like a sport. “ _Seriously, Jones, call if you need anything._ ”

“I won’t.” The line clicks and for a moment Jess just stares, wondering how the fuck this is what her life became.

~~Phil would’ve thought it was so cool.~~

* * *

Matt stays by Peter’s bed all night, ears strained to make sure the rope he had to use didn’t come loose or rub Peter’s skin raw. He wakes up several times, his healing seemingly doing nothing against the mind-control but waking him up quicker all the same. Matt murmurs prayers of forgiveness, asking the Lord that Peter doesn’t get a concussion from all the times Matt has to knock him out.

~~He’s just like Stick.~~

When the apartment starts to warm from the rising sun, there’s a change in Peter’s heartbeat. Unlike the rest of the times, he doesn’t start fighting straightaway, waking slowly and only panicking when he finds himself tied down.

“Dad? Wh-” Peter makes a choking sound and Matt begins untying him, tossing the rope carelessly to the side. “Oh gods. I fucked up. Great Mother, I fucked up so bad.” Matt holds him close when the tears start, letting Peter curl into his shoulder and rocking him with the sobs. “Got too close, let Malcolm grab me, got the earplugs out. I couldn’t throw him off, couldn’t hurt him, there were civilians everywhere, dad, I couldn’t hurt them.”

“I know, shhh. I know sweetheart it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Peter shakes his head, body trembling. “He told me to tell him my name and I _did_ , and when he said I wanted to help him I _agreed_. I lied to Jess, he’s going for her, dad, he wants her so bad and I couldn’t _help_.” His voice breaks and Matt holds him tighter, shushing him and rubbing his back gently.

“It’s okay, Peter. I called Jess, she’s fine, she knows what she’s doing. There’s been nothing in the news about Beelzebub being seen at the café-” Matt cuts himself off, confused when Peter starts sobbing harder.

“A g-girl was recording the whole thing and when K-Kilgrave saw h-he told her to delete the video and then walk into th—into the _road_. He told everyone to stop paying attention to us and go help her b-but she was already _dead_.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Peter.”

“I just _stood_ there like I was told and a girl is dead.”

“A girl is dead because Kilgrave is a terrible person. That isn’t on you.” Peter doesn’t respond, just cries and Matt knows that Peter will be seeing that girl in his dreams the same way Matt sees Ben and Elena and his own father.

* * *

Peter doesn’t get out of bed for the rest of the day and Matt just keeps him company, making him chamomile tea (no lemon) and watching Disney movies together. No demons walk the streets that night.

They do for the rest of the week. Peter is insistent he wants to get back into the swing of things, cracking more jokes than ever, going after criminals with a single minded purpose. Daredevil and Beelzebub stick together because Matt hears when Peter wakes up screaming and knows he’s not sleeping enough. But Matt doesn’t know how to fix it, so he just watches Beelzebub’s back and waits for Peter to find a way to move past what happened.

~~Matt’s had to do it more times than he can count.~~

~~He hates that Peter does too.~~

The only thing of note is when Brett, for the first time ever, reaches out to Daredevil. He doesn’t say much, doesn’t give details. Just a simple call that “something went down at the 15th. If you guys are going after Kilgrave, be careful.” There’s nothing in the news, and when Belphegor hacks into the cameras, everything from Tuesday before four has been erased. Belphegor says he’ll see what he can do to recover the deleted files, but it’ll take a miracle.

They don’t see Jessica, or even hear from her, but when they’re going over an abandoned building, they overhear an Officer Clemons calling into the 15th. Daredevil smells blood, so they get close, following someone Beelzebub recognizes as Simpson into the building. Listening in, it becomes clear that at some point, Jessica must have gotten ahold of Kilgrave, though she’s apparently lost him again.

Daredevil barely moves in time to stop Simpson, but they manage to get him down and webbed, Clemons’s gun trained on them afterward or not. Looking around, Beelzebub recognizes surveillance equipment and a dead body.

“Brett says you aren’t so bad,” Clemons offers. He clicks the safety on. “And considering where this thing seems to be going with Jessica Jones, I suppose I have no room to judge him. Good thing you were in and out before I could arrest you.” They take the gift, disappearing before other units show up.

* * *

The next night, they’re in the awkward place where the streets are too nice to really be Hell’s Kitchen but too ugly to really be Chelsea either. They don’t usually come this far, but there’d been a protest on 11th about Kilgrave and anti-powers that they had to go around. Now that an actual arrest warrant has been released due to evidence from Clemons, the entire borough wants justice for the Shlottmans—Hope having been released that very day.

Beelzebub and Daredevil stop to breathe for a second when Beelzebub’s phone rings. He notices the JJ (she doesn’t have a codename he knows of) and answers immediately.

“ _Do you have a doctor?_ ”

“What?”

“ _You and Devil Boy go fighting in tights every night. Do you have someone that patches you up?_ ”

“Yeah. Wait, are you hurt? What’s going on?”

“ _Get your doctor and meet me at my apartment._ ”

“That’s really not an answer.” Even so, Beelzebub sends out a web and he and Daredevil start making their way to Metro Gen.

“ _Look, I just need someone who knows what they’re doing._ ”

“What we dealing with?”

“ _Shotgun shot to the head._ ”

Beelzebub blinks pulling his phone away to stare at it. “Uh, death might be a little beyond our usual gal.”

“ _He’s not dead_.” There’s grunting and flesh thudding. “ _Look, he’s powered so he’s alive but he’s powered so I can’t take him to the hospital. Capuche?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, capuche. We’ll be there soon.”

“Claire,” Daredevil spits out, scowling, “Isn’t going to like this.”

* * *

Claire Temple doesn’t like it. She in fact hates it. She’s at work, in the middle of a shift. The last thing she wants to do is go help a powered person’s powered friend who has just been shot in the head because the two powered idiots she occasionally patches up ask it of her.

She takes her break and lets Beelzebub swing her to Jessica Jones’s apartment.

* * *

Luke Cage, they all learn, has unbreakable skin. Literally. Not even Jessica or Beelzebub’s super strength can get through it. Claire bypasses this by going through his _eyeball_. Which, wow, not something Beelzebub wanted to see literally ever but also kind of super cool?

He’ll tell MJ and Ned about it and let them decide where it ranks on the ew vs cool scale.

Jessica looks through Luke’s phone and Beelzebub calls Belphegor. They have Kilgrave’s phone located in minutes.

“Great, thanks. Lots of help.” Jessica points at all of them. “You stay here.”

“You can’t do it alone,” Daredevil points back.

“Last time I had help,” she sneers pointedly at Beelzebub, “Kilgrave got a new toy. You admitted you’re more at risk. I don’t need to fight both of you as well as him.”

“It’s because he got me that I need to help.” Beelzebub steps forward, crossing his arms. “I watched him _kill a girl_ and I couldn’t help. This is my fight now as much as it is yours.”

_~~“Don’t move, Peter.”~~ _

She bites out a laugh, dead and hollow. “Kilgrave will _always_ be my fight. You’re earplugs-”

“Replaced and improved. Can’t be taken out without a special pattern code.” He flashes them, looking a little like hearing aids but doing the exact opposite.

“Someone needs to watch Luke,” she says instead of commenting.

“Double-D can.”

“If you think I’m letting you go after him alone-”

“I’ll have Jessica as back up. And besides, if Kilgrave gets a hold of you we’re all screwed. The earplugs don’t work with your hearing and Jessica is right; someone should stay here with Claire and Luke in case Kilgrave sends someone to finish the job.”

Daredevil hisses between his teeth, upset but ultimately agreeing. It’s been happening a lot more lately.

“If either of you get hurt,” Claire offers, finally leaving Luke alone, “I’m going to kick your asses. I did not just leave in the middle of a shift to deal with bodies.” Beelzebub salutes to her and Jessica rolls her eyes.

“This is a terrible idea. But fine.”

* * *

Somehow, and Beelzebub really can’t tell how, between the dead body filled apartment and Belphegor getting them a boat location, they pick up Trish Walker. Jessica ‘call me Jess or I’ll smack you’ Jones is clearly Not Happy about her adoptive sister getting involved. Beelzebub puts his earplugs in during the argument to give them some privacy.

After they figure out the plan together, he replaces them and gets into position. It’s almost too easy to stick on the wall of the building, waiting for Kilgrave to run out towards the yacht and webbing him. Beelzebub should’ve known it would never be that easy, not even after webbing Kilgrave’s mouth shut.

His danger sense pings and he flips off the wall, narrowly avoiding a bullet fired by a guard. Beelzebub knocks him out quickly, mentally apologizing, but he doesn’t have time to check a pulse. Half a dozen others come after him, each wearing a police uniform. Beelzebub is only thankful he doesn’t recognize any of them. He slips into the pattern of duck, dodge, punch, web, always careful of his strength. A flash of dark hair goes past him and he pays enough attention to note that Jess has shown up and Kilgrave is free.

A mass of civilians, at least two dozen strong, stands between them and Kilgrave. Beelzebub doesn’t hear the command, but he sees the aftermath. Everyone goes after each other, ripping and kicking, pulling blood and mouths curling in screams. He pulls people off of each other, webs them down, using a web to tie a tourniquet on an arm that someone bit open.

In a single ripple, everything goes still. Beelzebub puts down the man he’s holding, looking up to find Trish standing next to Kilgrave, his hand on her throat. Grinning, Kilgrave looks at Beelzebub and taps his ear. He hesitates, but Kilgrave’s hands tighten around Trish’s throat and it isn’t really a choice. Beelzebub takes out his earplugs.

“Don’t speak, don’t move.” Beelzebub chokes back a cry at the command, the voice oil slick as it spreads across his skin, invades every pore, freezes every muscle. Beelzebub takes shallow breaths, making sure his chest doesn’t move.

~~The girl steps off the edge, a truck barely towards her. Peter doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even lean towards her.~~

Beelzebub keeps his eyes on Jess, waiting for her to do something, to break free even as Kilgrave, in one of the most disgusting moves Beelzebub has ever seen, kisses Trish long and hard, tongue and saliva audible over the silent dock.

And then Kilgrave is stepping towards Jess, triumph painted in his eyes, dripping from his voice as he orders to her to smile, as he orders her to say she loves him.

“I love you,” Jess says to Trish. And snaps Kilgrave’s neck.

~~Peter flinches at the gunshot, heads towards it, May and Ben suddenly silent. Another follows.~~

~~The sickening crunch of bones under metal as the truck hits the girl, so quick she doesn’t even scream.~~

~~He breaks the man’s arm, asks again where he’s been delivering children. The man screams but Beelzebub can’t care when children are being sold.~~

~~Bodies painting a penthouse red, copper choking the air like smog.~~

Kilgrave’s body drops, the crack of bone echoing as he lays on the ground.

Beelzebub takes a deep breath. Reaches for his phone.

Jess and Trish say they’ll stay until the cops come and Beelzebub promises he’ll send a good lawyer their way.

* * *

Clemons and DA Reyes are across the table from her, Trish long since released. Clemons doesn’t say anything, just hovers with his arms crossed while DA Reyes lays charges against her. Mostly the whole murder thing.

“Ms. Reyes, stop talking to my client.” They all twist to see who interrupted the hoity toity District Attorney. A blind guy walks in, cane tapping and glasses glinting red. His client? Which means this must be the lawyer Beelzebub promised her.

Jess told Jeri to go fuck herself after the fetus thing.

“I have over a dozen witnesses naming Miss Jones the killer of a wanted felon,” the DA snaps. “I have every right to press charges.”

“And each one of those witnesses will happily point out that my client acted in self-defense. Including the _police officers_ , I imagine. And let’s not forget Miss Walker. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to take time off from Trish Talk to testify in court about how my client acted in her own self-defense after police repeatedly turned her away.” He grins, wide and baring all of his teeth. “That is, of course, not accounting other police reports Ms. Jeri Hogarth collect for the Shlottman case that reveal this is not the first instance the police have turned away victims of Kilgrave. I’ll be more than happy to submit the reports into evidence if you’d like to meet me in court, Ms. Reyes.” He didn’t even bother to sit down and she understands why when she’s out of there two seconds later.

“Matt Murdock,” he introduces as they walk out, offering a card. It’s simple, just with _Nelson & Murdock, Attorneys at Law_ and a phone number printed. Running her fingers over it, she finds small bumps which are probably braille. “Our, ah, _mutual friend_ ,” he murmurs, smirking like something’s funny, “said you’re a good person.”

“He’s wrong,” she responds. Murdock shrugs.

“I don’t think so. He’s a good judge of character. You ever need anything else, Miss Jones, give me a call.” He tips his head towards her and walks away. She manages to meet Trish’s hug and for one second finally lets herself acknowledge that it’s over, that Kilgrave is well and truly dead.

She opens a bottle at home to celebrate, bed clean and made likely from Malcolm. Simpson is in custody, to her knowledge, for trying to tamper with police evidence, Kilgrave is dead,

~~Smile.~~

Wendy Ross had signed the divorce papers before her death so Jeri stopped bitching, and her door isn’t even broken. It’s a good day.

Her phone beeps with voicemails and she starts playing them, sitting up as one after another people ask for help.

~~“ _Our mutual friend said you’re a good person.”_~~

_~~“Let me know if you ever need help again, Jess.”~~ _

_~~“Imagine how many people you could help, Jess.”~~ _ ~~~~

Jess reaches for her legal pad and starts taking notes.

* * *

**Hero Finder (@maskwatchnyc):** this has nothing to do with the superhero community and everything to do with the villains of the world. Over a week ago, a woman named Alexa O’Reilly was hit by a truck. Witnesses claim she walked in front of it, and only now has it come out she did so because Kilgrave ordered her to. Today, I learned that Alexa was @lexiadoescosplay. Lexia was an amazing person who constantly brought joy to those around her and was always happy to defend minorities against the bigots of the world.

> It is unforgivable that such a bright person is gone because of cruelty. She should’ve lived a long life and that was cut short by Kilgrave. I want to thank Jessica Jones and Beelzebub for making sure that Kilgrave could never do that to anyone again. I can’t speak to the right or wrong of it, but I can say that the streets are safer because we have heroes protecting them. There’s a donation here to help pay for Lexia’s funeral as her mother is under the poverty line _link._ I want to say #thankyouheroes for making the streets safe again, but I will miss Lexia dearly. May she rest in peace #ripLexia

**Jim (@jimmypics):** @maskwatchnyc thank you for bringing attention to this. The world is a darker place without Lexia and I really hope she’s okay, wherever she is. #ripLexia

 **J. Jonah Jameson (@dailybuglepublisher):** @maskwatchnyc it is exactly because powers like Jessica Jones and Beelzebub are running around unchecked that good people like Alexa O’Reilly are dead. The government needs to step up and handle the growing population of superhumans. #stopthefreaks

* * *

Simpson looks up from the floor of his cell, spying Dr. Kozlov. His lips are pressed thin, but he nods to the guard. The door swings open.

* * *

Trish startles at the knock, pen flying out of her hand. She breaths a little easier when she sees the horned helmet, hood silhouetting the face.

It maybe doesn’t say good things about her that she thinks seeing one of the demons of Hell’s Kitchen is a good thing.

“Hey, Beelzebub. How can I help?”

“Don’t need help, just wanted to check in on you.” He tilts his head, remaining unstartled when a sudden boom of thunder echoes around the sky. “You haven’t done a story about the Kilgrave thing yet and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“That’s sweet of you. But my producer nixed the idea of a Kilgrave story. They have me on something else right now.”

“That’s fucking stupid.” She leans back, surprised at the vitriol. “You’re wasted on fluff pieces when you could be telling the world the truth, especially about something that’s being buried under so much anti-powers crap that Jess is coming out as the monster.”

“I can’t do anything about what my producers consider valid topics.”

“Then fuck your producer.” She chokes and Beelzebub rolls his head. “Not literally. Damn, girl, keep up. You want to do good in this city?”

“Of course!”

“Then help us by telling our stories. The _real_ stories. Lots of people are doing their own thing now, it’s why the internet is so wonderful. But Double-D and I can’t do much without revealing our identities and putting people at risk. And Jess doesn’t seem like the type to speak up for herself. So do it for us.” He shrugs, turning away and sending a web out into the storm. “Just a thought.”

And he’s gone.

* * *

Videos of the 15th Precinct showing every officer holding themselves at gunpoint after orders given from Kilgrave go viral overnight. Someone online revealed that there’s an emblem embedded in the file, a red and gray earth melding with a wave image leaking into the words _Rising Tide_. When Peter asks Ned if he knows anything about it at school the next day, Ned shrugs and says “I found that miracle.”

“And the hacker group taking credit?”

Ned doesn’t say anything, just meets Peter and MJ’s eyes one at a time. No one says anything, not about Ned’s group, not about the police reports somehow managing to make it to Jeri Hogarth without Ned or Peter’s input. Not about the bruises fading from Peter’s knuckles. For once, each of them is silent, the truths between them each lying unspoken as, to the one, they all went back to pretending to be normal high school students.

* * *

**The Walker Report: Kilgrave Menace Overcome**

_By Trish Walker._

It has come to my attention that Trish Talk is no longer relevant. The world is evolving, changing. Society and evolution are both moving forward with no signs of stopping and Trish Talk, a daily radio talk show of soft news pieces, can no longer keep up with it. So here I am, creating a blog and entering the online medium as the next step of my evolution.

But when I say evolution I don’t just mean it metaphorically. Humans are literally evolving and never has that been more apparent than this week when superhuman went against superhuman in a fight of good vs evil. I’m of course talking about Jessica Jones and Kevin Thompson aka Kilgrave.

While the general details of this have been gone over by every news source in the city, there are details that none of them know because none of them _can_ know the details without having been present from the onset. I’m different. Jessica Jones has been my adoptive sister since she lost her family as a teen and I was there every step of the way against Kilgrave.

It all started like this…

* * *

“Can you believe this?”

“What? Other people having powers? Is that so surprising considering where we are?”

“Well, no. But the fact that the public isn’t lynching them is surprising. I mean, that’s why we’re hiding isn’t it? Fear of repri-repryz-”

“Reprisal.”

“Professor!”

“Professor, when did you get here?”

“Can’t an old man go freely in his own school anymore?”

“Well, sure but…”

“Professor, it’s good that people are responding to other superhumans, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes. It gives me hope that when the time comes, they won’t respond with too much fear.”

“When the time—wait, do you mean you’re going to be _revealing_ us?”

“That’s a great idea! Then we can help them, like we’ve been training for.”

“Oh sure, great idea. All those people calling for Jessica Jones’s head will be _ecstatic_ to hear there’s a subspecies of humans with innate abilities that they can’t stop.”

“You’re such a pis-pessi—such a downer!”

“You mean pessimist? It’s called being realistic-”

“Children.”

“Sorry, Professor.”

“Sorry.”

“The longer we stay hidden, the more the world will be suspicious of us. I haven’t made any decisions yet, but the times are changing. It might be time for us to change as well.”

“ _Mutatis mutandis_.”

“Exactly. Now, run along to your classes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is in the series notes for this. Also, those who have looked at the timeline on my Tumblr (just search under the What is it to be a Hero tag) will note that the next two things are Ant-man and [REDACTED]. I will tell you that the last scene of this fic is only part 1 of [REDACTED]. :)  
> Hope you enjoyed, comments feed the author!


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